"legos" poems
i miss you
the way Obama misses his intelligence briefings
i finally cleaned out my bedroom
threw out
all the legos i always accidentally stepped on
all of the crusty pieces of Argentine food i wasn't ready to let go of
you are a jedi
or perhaps just my best friend
some people hurt your eyes like neon when you see them
but you don't
you are nutella
and i am a butterknife
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Do you remember the simple times?
No worries, no pain, just simple glories
Of building the tallest and largest building
Just made out of bricks of colorful pieces
Each one sticking to one another
Piling up by color and size
You would put on a smile filled with pride
Whenever you finished every brick
on top another
But what did you do when you left
and came back
then all you’ve built
was broken and gone?
“Don’t cry, child, it was only legos,
time for the real thing now.”
was what you were told.
“This time, child,
don’t make your dreams
out of lego bricks.”
a. gale
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
I grew up taking hits from my big brother,
I grew up on "boys' weekend" camping trips,
I grew up with my father calling me a princess but calling my brothers rock stars,
I grew up watching Boy Scout meetings from the back of the room,
I grew up on LEGOs and Hot Wheels and
I still remember the year my brothers got Nerf guns for Christmas
and I got a bracelet,
I remember being shot with foam bullets and having no way to fight back,
but at least I looked pretty.
I remember seeing my dad leave for work every morning
and wondering why my mom never did,
I remember wanting to be an astronaut, but my brother told me
moms have to stay home.
The phrase stop being a girl is branded into my mind
and I still curse myself every day
for the organs I was born with.
I remember the year my brothers went as zombies for Halloween
and I had to go as a princess,
I remember bringing a fake butcher's knife
because a princess is not scary.
I grew up on manhood meaning strength
and manhood meaning confidence
and manhood meaning respect
and I still wear dresses
and my dad still calls me a princess
but I'll be ****** if you tell me I'm not a man.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
.
Legos
Rubik ' s Cube
Stress ***** Top
Squirt gun Yo-yo
Slinky GI Joe Hot
Wheels Action F
igures Col lectibl
e Puzzles Etch A
SketchStuffed An
imals Marbles Do
llsCards Kite Perp
plexus Le a p Pad
Magic School Bus
Micro s co p e Kit
Vibrating Rubber Duck
ie Handcuffs Oral *** Strip
Glowing Stretchy Vibrating *****
Doll theLibera tor Soloflesh
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
I am a tower of Legos
as much as you can break me
you can always put me back together again
but sometimes,
it's hard to tell
if I'm broken
and I'm building myself back up
again
Or
if I've built myself so high up
that I'm just waiting to collapse
again
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
i wonder some days
if you would be happy without me
because
at this moment
thinking that i could be without you
makes me feel like
i wouldnt be happy like i am now ever again
do you miss me when i cant talk one day
do you want to kiss me in the middle of the night
when you are drifting to sleep
do you realize you can break me down
quicker than you could build me up
legos ready to topple over
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:17 PM UTC
Time;
I remember
a time when
cities were made
of nothing but Legos
and one's imagination.
Still,
even now
I can't help
but wish harder
that the cities we walk
were still made of that stuff.
Cardboard,
took us miles,
and paper planes
really did bring us flight.
So,
I ask;
Please,
don't let
your imagination
fall into stagnation,
like a Lego block
that gathers
dust.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
How I adore your nerve
when you kissed me in your closet upon sheets made of legos
and all of your childhood dreams.
How easy I am for you to draw when you play on stage the song that you wrote me,
The one that feels like rock climbing by the river,
Like naps in the summer when I drool on your chest and you don't mind,
Like kissing you until the very last minute of my curfew,
only to break it for the miracle that is your lips.
How alluring is your breath on my neck,
Your voice in my ear when you told me that you loved me
and you didn't stop smiling,
even as the years went by and I did.
How I craved, longed, begged for time to be still
the time you took me to the highest hill you could drive to,
You called it my mountain.
"At first, you look at it and it's so small,
but once you notice it, it's all you can see," you said.
How my stomach floods with waves of nostalgia and a taste
of everything I've ever had to live without,
With complete and utter spell-binded devotion at the simple familiarity
of your smell.
How addicted I am to your laugh when you're happy and
the mastered impression you do of your mom.
How weak I am to your intellect and your appreciation of literature
and real music,
Your enthusiasm for art and the "name that note" game you force upon me
as you stumble onto the classical radio station.
How in love I am with your romance that is as childish as my attachment
to my baby blankie and my mother's childhood walrus that you never ceased to insult.
Our pajama day that we decided over our prom,
When we turned on John Mayer and slow danced in your room.
Your idea of a date consisted of fake wine and me.
How incredibly warm are the coldest of nights,
On the side of your dirt road as we lie in the snow that is too cold for comfort,
yet holds us there with the fear that one day will not look the same as this one
and I would bear any amount of cold winter to keep one more moment of yours.
How I cherish the way you latch my pinky with yours when we walk
And the face you don't know you make when you play guitar.
The rooftop where you kissed me for the very first time and the string rings
we wore to remind each other we were still there.
How incredibly and unfortunately devout I am to all that I remember of you.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
Theres more in this life than I think I can handle,
legos pile around me,
hell is becoming more understandable.
Every little mistake I've made
burns my soul with unending flames,
the memories toy with my mind
like Lego games.
Building blocks around my heart
and shredding the bits of humanity I have left apart.
Stacking up the walls higher
and stronger to keep the emotions away,
if it all falls down
the insanity and anger will come out to play.
So these Lego games that block out all the hurt
need to stand tall,
I can't let anything break down or my life will
crumble
and
***f
a
l
l.***
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
It’s Christmas time, Santa Claus is here,
I guess it’s just that time of year
That fills everyone with glee,
Everyone but me.
I immediately regretted climbing out of bed
When I feel the chill creeping up my neck.
I just want to go back to sleep,
Then some sanity I can keep.
I slowly make my way toward the fireplace.
But that’s when I see your face
Because you always kept me warm.
And sheltered from those winter storms.
Everyone is asking me to make a list,
If I could have anything that I wish,
What would it be?
I close my eyes and I see.
Hawaii or Europe could be nice,
At least they aren’t covered in this ice.
Or maybe a new sweater,
To hide myself from this weather.
Avery wants a Barbie and Kayden wants it all,
Ian wants legos, but I fear that they’re so small,
He will probably lose them, so I guess that’s a waste,
I just want to kiss away these unpleasant holidays.
I could say I want a new car covered in ribbons and bows
But if you want the truth, then here it goes.
I want to go back this time last year where everything was right.
Where I had the boy, I had the Dad, but a Mother? Well…not quite.
Maybe that could be my other wish,
A bonus on my gift list.
I would do anything you need me to,
Because Christmas isn’t the same without you.
You didn’t have to be my father,
Because I was another man’s daughter,
But you pulled me in, and gave me your name,
And when it came to your children, you treated me the same.
Maybe I didn’t know my dad,
But there was one special man that I had,
And as I look out over this blasted snow,
I realize that I can’t let you go.
Mom part 2 might seem alright,
But you should see how she is at night,
Because the love of her life was taken away,
A month ago from last Sunday.
Daddy’s little girl, isn’t little anymore,
And daddy isn’t here to kiss her little sores.
Her heart is breaking because you’re gone.
But life is supposed to go on.
They asked me what I wanted
And all I know is that this is true,
**That Christmas time, isn’t Christmas time,
If Christmas is missing you.**
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
Author: Kristen Stevens
Current mood: frustrated
Anthony got a firetruck Lego set. The packaging says "ages 5-12". It also makes the claim "designed for easy building and instant play." Now I know he's only 4 but he's smart and not that far from 5 comparatively. I on the other hand am 28. Well outside the parameters age wise. Yet, this smallish box of tiny toys baffled me for over an hour. I have the directions, I've dug through the pieces, and am still mystified on occasion. As I'm searching for yet another microscopic piece of siren or whatever it was, I'm thinking..."5 years! I can't see any 5 yr-old sticking with this for this long without losing his mind. Then Mom would take it away because of the temper tantrum and never gets built. This is stupid! Where did that tiny loopy thing go?...etc" What part of an hour is "instant play" do they not own a dictionary? I could tell them.
Then once it's together, somehow Anthony keeps taking the windshield off. He's not actively disassemble it. He's just rolling back and forth on the floor going "whoo-whoo!" Lego's the most touchy toy on the planet. Maybe he'll get some more when he's 15.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 7:52 AM UTC
summer, spring, winter, fall,
it always carried a whiff of cleanliness, like lysol,
bleach and daffodils had made a not so secret love
child.
there were never any marks. no signs of mistakes,
accidents, humanity.
the floors glistened like the sun beaming off a black
convertible.
the windows, you couldn’t even tell they were
windows. not without the panes.
transparent like the shores of the Mediterranean.
I never touched anything.
I held my breath among glass, ornaments, picture frames.
afraid one intake would show up like a smudge that could
never be wiped off, no matter how much one tried.
she fits the house. like those china dolls, polished to perfection.
blonde hair rolled in unison curls. no frizz. never any
fly aways.
face just like those windows, eyes raging in a storm too far away.
his room was the only one i could sink in.
legos scattered
(i always stepped on the yellow ones)
clothes fuming with dirt and almost manhood.
his posters crooked, carrying characters dressed in
armor, or tuxedos, animated, weapons in hand.
his bed, never made, incasing the last impression of his body
(he always slept on his side)
a spot of drool still visible, blankets holding his scent.
soap, laundry detergent and oranges.
game controllers trashed, bite marks, dents, too many battles.
i finally breathed when i walked in.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
I will not adult today,
I will go out and play,
To my Pokemon and Legos I will say,
"It is for building and battles I deem this day."
Outside in the wind my hair will sway
And stress will not, my nerves, fray.
I will not adult today,
Imaginary monsters will I slay.
A pile of candy I will have on a tray,
Only blue skies I see, no clouds of grey.
For peace of mind I need not pray,
Today is mine and mine to do as I may.
What's that? The phone rings in my way,
It's my boss, he has something to say...
Off to work I go, I guess I will adult today.
Tomorrow I promise to do nothing but play.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
I saw a sign that said,
I spent all my money on scotch, women and guitars. The rest I just wasted
My life will probably be the same way
Except knowing my luck I'll **** around and have the strings misplaced
Men never really grow up our toys just get more expensive
As a guy I can attest to this
I went from being content with action figures Legos and my N64
To guitars cars and rollerblading on the Riverwalk under the bridges
It's funny how that happens
How materialism changes how we see the world
But pursuing all the finer things
Wanting champagne wishes and caviar dreams
Makes you forget the madness that truly comprises the earth
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
I was moving out
Parked my bike down the street
With a cart hinged on the bolt beneath the rusty pole
connected to my seat.
The yard was steep, and the stairs leading down
the front
Vanished each car-
go carrying trip
of dictionaries and travel guides that
could have been lumped together in boxes
separately tossed into the neon
green
synthetic fiber
rain-proof buggy
Connected to my seat.
I ran across the lawn, one last time
Buckling the watch I found from high school
remembering it’s broken and not caring
then I saw men wearing polos beneath
Greek symbols beneath a doorway
and held my breath as they stared at me.
This vacant lot held something which I carried back
to find
my bike was gone, replaced
by a life-sized depiction of a bike saying
“no bikes--” A girl inside, explaining where I could find mine
I walked down the grey spiral of handicapped access ramps
surrounded by aquariums or tvs
which comprised the store's interior.
The last ramp faced an exit and went straight past
refrigerators next to vending machines
In the alley behind this office supply store were two old men
Roasting my bike on a chain beside the others
Disconnected, hung
its tires lying on the ground beside their feet
and the carriage slung aside like a bloodied gazelle's neck.
“What the ****
A woman got into my face “don’t use that word”
***** a perfectly good word, after all, it’s how we
got here”
One man smiled.
He felt bad.
They helped me put the bike together and I walked it back to my house.
I saw my car down the street.
I thought about the long trip to the interstate and wondered why I’d
rode my bike
Then I went back up the stairs of the blue sided hill,
to see the roommate I hated
and thought about stealing his SNES and stereo
but took only my one possession
and walked past rotting turkey bacon in a plastic pouch
on the top of a table
beside some legos
and left.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
I used to keep my baby teeth in a butterscotch tin.
I guess I was making an investment
in tooth-fairy stock; trying to diversify my easter bunny portfolio.
Quarters: Like chocolate I could feed into a Coinstar and turn to dollar bills
which I could then use to buy more chocolate.
I just, hey, I just remembered that I have a butterscotch tin filled with quarters
sitting in the back of my closet right now. Funny,
when things move in circles like that--I can’t even remember
the last time I ate a butterscotch. Or even how my final tooth
came out, which I’d think would be a milestone.
I was eating an egg-salad sandwich when I lost one of the last ones--
I just took a bite and one tooth stayed behind.
For weeks I couldn’t even look at a sandwich,
I just kept thinking about the disturbing look of blood on mayonnaise.
I wonder if there’s much business for the tooth fairy these days--
my dad, winding blue ribbons around small stacks of quarters so they’d look nice;
my dad, stepping on LEGOs in the dark and stifling swears;
my dad, navigating bedroom geography to make a swift exchange
while I slept and turned a tidy profit, trading old small parts
for riches and a grown-up mouth.
Now I wonder what they did with my wisdom teeth,
after they pulled them out last year.
Were they drilled out, finally, into dust? Or did
a dental surgeon slip some pilfered teeth
beneath his pillow on the sly,
turning one last profit out of my face,
the summer someone noticed
I needed a grown-up mouth?
All I know is that for days
I stayed at home moaning into my pillow,
strung out on percocet and eating anything
that could be sipped through a straw.
(It was only then I discovered the Sonic had stopped
serving butterscotch shakes--years ago, apparently.
You’d think I’d have noticed. But then, you’d think
I’d notice lots of things.)
I wonder how much my teeth would be worth now.
I wonder if the tooth-fairy has adjusted for inflation.
I still get excited over stray quarters,
but now I guess I just have to find them on the street
like everyone else does.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:19 PM UTC
I could never understand how
someone could try to find stability in another human being
that's like trying to find stability in a tower of Legos
There's no assurance that those Legos will always
stay strong and at some point
they fall
too
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC
We add speeches. Then nod our heads. We swim as if shipwrecked, but I wish we could be forgotten. I never have had you as much as I'd like, but I dream about your hands touching my face. We are like fish in prohibition, caged harmonies unbalanced by fake friends. I know your lullaby, I can't sleep it's ringing in my ears. Trust me and let us tie our legs together. You filled in my lines and have left me for deaf. I can't hear the words you've learned to lie together, you are intensifying and need attention. I can give you your spirit animal and sanctuary. Put your skin against my soft lips, your head pressed against my mouth, can you make a seashell out of your tongue, or wrestle an argument to the ground with the touch of your palm.
There aren't enough points for me to keep playing these games that I already beat you at. If I was half the dancer you keep telling me I am, then where do you keep your high heels, I've never seen you in high heels. Every time I see you push bangs from out of your face, or toss the strands from off your nape, I want to give you a crown that doesn't fear the pronouns that spells us two teas and our laptops sitting across from each other in the 1980s pour-over palace we remark on often. I collect stickers and old homework assignments. We both grew up with dolls, Playdoh, and Legos. You might only have one sister, but we both live in small houses filled with huge ideas. Homes of wit and sarcasm. I've cut ounces from your meat and I still can't sleep well.
I will steal your blanket, bedspread, and your pillows. Given the chance I will touch your ears, your face, and the lengths of your legs. But before we have our first to last kiss. Let me talk to Paul with this once in a lifetime opportunity. If he wants a life line he'll take this opportunity, and seemingly uncircumstantial; you recollect yourself in a Margherita and an advance that lands you to sway your ground.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
The world is ending today,
the sky is falling in clumps.
It was just a bunch of LEGOS after all.
Nobody sees it but me
and I am alarmed.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
We were young,
sitting on a couch,
playing legos and super powers,
faces with chocolates,
yes, those smiles melted my heart,
and I have no idea
I would love you since then.
We were lying on the rooftop,
watching the glimmers of the stars,
how they passed by
and fell from the skies,
I looked at you
while you were talking,
yes, those smiles melted my heart,
and you don't know
that just like those stars
in the moonlit night,
I have already fallen for you.
We were lost in the middle
like bottles in the ocean,
I sought you in every corner
of the streets
and found you crying
in your room,
you hid your face with pillow
and I was standing there crying too.
You never noticed me,
he broke your heart
for a thousand times,
and I was just your crying shoulder ---
just a crying shoulder.
After years of pretending,
I decided to tell you the truth.
I can't smile
without you in my life,
for I was drawn to loving you
with no love at all in return.
Yet you told me
you have loved me
even from the beginning
of our love story,
when we were young,
sitting on a couch,
playing legos and super powers,
faces with chocolates,
yes, my smiles melted your heart,
and you have no idea
you would love me too.
You caught me
looking on your eyes
while you were talking
about the future,
and like those stars
you have already fallen for me too.
And you only hid your face
that day,
for you couldn't take me
crying out of your pain.
We were supposed to be forever,
we were supposed
to surpass eternity,
but I was just mistaken
by my bewildered fantasies ---
I failed you dear.
I have been fighting this sickness
and I have never given up,
it's just that ---
I love you
and I hate myself
when I see your tears
falling on your sleeve.
I wrote this poem
for you to remember me ---
the memories we shared,
and when you read this
maybe that time I'm already gone.
I love you until my last breath,
I'm sorry but I have to leave ---
I'm sorry.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
A million love songs later,
A thousand romantic movies later,
I realized,
I don’t really love you like that.
I love you like shattered glass.
I love you like that wound on my palm.
I love you like pain.
I love you in so many different ways.
I love you like a dead bird.
I love you like art absurd.
I love you like slit wrists.
I love you like that bottle of phenol.
I love you in so many destructive ways.
I love you like broken hearts.
I love you like crazy ***
I love you like my cheap whiskey.
I love you like everything that isn't meant to be.
I love you in so many ***** ways.
But I couldn't love you any less.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
We are broken
Laying in a bin full of legos
Potential to be beautiful
To be whole again
We wait for the right hands
To mend us into something more
Than the broken body parts in the mirror
Build me into something new
Something more than myself
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
Old memories preserved in black and white.
Reminisce of a time less contrite.
Seen through the lens of those without strife.
Young and free with a passion for life.
Replaced by wisdom, fear and guilt.
For the life one has methodically built.
With walls and doors, and windows to see.
As the world passes by this absentee.
Surrounded by frames of the finest wood.
Of snapshots of the potential that someday could.
Climb the mountains unreached by the hands of our time.
Instead stuck walking for fear of the climb.
For fear of the fall and all it might bring.
Fear of the inability to rebuild his wings.
Compliant with gravity, compliant with normality.
Unfamiliar with the rebellion that once filled his soul.
Defining his life where their now is a hole.
Replaced by a scar and filled with his tears.
As the joys of his childhood continue to disappear.
Chased away by the light of reality.
Youthful dreams replaced in actuality.
Ambitions refocused towards sensuality.
Mind made up of generalities.
Soul defined in spirituality.
As his life moves slowly into irrationality.
And though the colors here are always bright.
They are most vulnerable in the absent of light.
Replaced by the darkness and a mind numbing truth.
One we all have forgotten from our youth.
That the potential of life knows no bounds.
And that which we can create will always astound.
Those who come after us and those who continue to follow.
Will continue to fill our world as if it was hollow.
In need of filling with that which they create.
Building from our ashes on a brand new slate.
Their artistry challenged only by those.
Who have left footprints in the sand with their bare toes.
So which life do you wish to live.
One of solitude or one where you continue to give.
Give your time, give your energy, give your heart and your soul.
To the child in you whom you continue to out grow.
Continue to neglect who’s dreams have yet to be filled.
By the world you once dreamed of with those Legos you use to build.
Dreams filled with sky scrapers all in black and white.
Only to be interrupted by mornings first light.
Life’s colors seeping in as they begin to fill your days.
Your youthful ambitions still here in many ways.
Still clinging to you through those memories of yesteryear.
Captured in your childish smile radiating so clear.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
Winter nomads
Reclined in a Maytag box
One after another, like Legos
Discarded “Hungry, Please Help” signs
Defines this squalor
Young or old, it shows no discriminating
Countless families, countless vets, countless children
Are lost to this
I am afraid to stare on their plight
Afraid of self-fulfilled prophecy
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
Seven year old Meghan boasted after school
that she already knew who she was to marry --
His name was Jack
and she had cold, hard facts
to back up her theory
on why he would be her perfect husband
"He's not crazy and we both like legos"
Fair enough.
*if only we never grew out of our old toys,
never stopped building and re-building what got torn down
brick by brick
maybe then I'd still be hiding in the closet
kissing eddie martin with the lights off*
But neither of us like legos anymore
and I guess we're both slightly crazy
Meghan will learn soon enough
that after a while you will step on too many legos
and you will have had enough
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC